


To All The Future Races

by queen_bitchiest



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: (does challenging someone to a race count as meet cute), Domestic Fluff, Fake AH Crew, M/M, Meet-Cute, Racing, Ryan-centric, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, read the AN before yelling @ me thx, this is so fucking fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-16 06:46:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21503602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queen_bitchiest/pseuds/queen_bitchiest
Summary: Ryan doesn’t exactly remember how it started. What he does remember is a wolf whistle and fiery curls and a wicked smile. Maybe he remembers that because it happens semi-regularly since that first time almost a year ago. Maybe he remembers that because it was happening again as he sat at a red light.
Relationships: Gavin Free & Michael Jones, Jeremy Dooley & Gavin Free & Ryan (Vagabond) & Michael Jones & Jack Patillo & Geoff Ramsey, Jeremy Dooley & Ryan (Vagabond), Michael Jones/Ryan (Vagabond)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 124





	To All The Future Races

**Author's Note:**

> concerning recent happening in the AH community: my fics were written featuring a character who he, unfortunately, played and was modeled and named after but who's actual characterization (habits/moods/etc) was created by the fandom. i never made that character to be as shitty as it's creator. and the fics aren't soley about that character.

Ryan doesn’t exactly remember how it started. What he does remember is a wolf whistle and fiery curls and a wicked smile. Maybe he remembers that because it happens semi-regularly since that first time almost a year ago. Maybe he remembers that because it was happening again as he sat at a red light.

He glances through the passenger window to see a chrome adder reflecting the sunlight, the owner leaning out of the driver side window to tilt his shades down his nose so he can stare at Ryan. The adder’s new but the challenge isn’t.

“To the next light?” Ryan asks, revving the Zentorno’s engine just because he can.

Mogar -he isn’t exactly subtle wearing that jacket everywhere- laughs, “Next three. If you win, I’ll buy you a drink. If I win, you let me get a peek under that mask.”

(Maybe he isn’t subtle either.)

This is something new, though, this little flirting thing going on between them. Ryan doesn’t know what to make of it, just possible bad decisions all around. Not that he’s complaining, he’s pretty sure he was the one that started the flirting in the first place. Mogar had caught him at a red light right after a messy job, and Ryan had little to no filter when he was delirious with blood loss. So, honestly, it wasn’t his fault when he’d suggested the loser pay for dinner (He hadn’t been able to take Mogar up on that because of the aforementioned blood loss, but hey).

“Deal.” He says as the light turns green.

Mogar whoops and their cars roar as they take off. They weave through the city traffic, causing more than a few cars to swerve wildly as they pass. One, two, three lights later Ryan slows down enough for Mogar to catch up and they cruize together for a moment. Mogar’s laughing so hard his car jerks on the road sporadically, and he pauses long enough to wheeze something about a truck and the rails before he’s laughing again. Ryan smiles, lets him laugh until he heaves in a deep breath and looks over.

“So… about that drink?” Ryan says, and he’s smiling under the mask but Mogar can’t see that.

“Do you want to get out of the city? I know a place in Paleto Bay.”

And that’s how they end up racing down the highway to a little hole-in-the-wall bar where the bartender greets them with a nod and waves to a booth in the corner.

That’s how it’s coming on two in the morning and Ryan’s pulling his mask off while he’s shoving Mogar against the wall of an old safehouse. Mogar gasps, eyes fluttering closed, and Ryan kisses him hard. Ryan pulls back to ask him something and they both end up laughing. Mogar’s mouth is smeared with black and white paint and Ryan assumes that he has to look the same.

“Of course you wear face paint under your mask.” Mogar says before pulling him in for another kiss.

Ryan is tugging at the hem of Mogar’s shirt when a phone rings. Mogar pushes him away and digs a gold iPhone out of his pocket, already straightening out his clothes and wiping his mouth.

“I’m kinda busy at the moment, boi.”

A high british voice comes from the other side, something loud and rapid. Mogar holds the phone away from his ear.

When he finally moves it back he sighs, “Goddamn. Alright, yeah. Tell them I’ll be there in a few.” He hangs up and sighs, “Motherfucker. I gotta go.”

Ryan smiles, wipes away a smudge on Mogar’s lips that he missed, “I guessed that.”

Mogar smiles, pulls him in for one more kiss, “See you at the next red light.”

***

It’s actually at a gas station that they meet again. Ryan had just pulled up at a pump when the door swings open. Mogar has his arms slung around two of his crewmates as they walk out. One is absolutely covered in gold, the other is an atrocity of orange and purple and cowboy.

Mogar looks up and spots his car. Grins and makes a little explosion motion with his hands -mouthed sound effects and all- before he winks. The three Fakes pile into their car, laughing and horseplaying, before speeding out of the parking lot. Ryan promptly shuts his door, starts his car, and shoots out of there like a bat outta hell.

A hundred yards out the gas station explodes. 

***

He rolls up to a red light next to the old red and blue Challenger and honks his horn. Mogar looks over and flips him the bird.

“What do I get when I win?” Ryan asks, revving the Zentorno.

“ _ If _ you win, asshole.” Mogar corrects, “Maybe I’ll let you buy me dinner.”

Ryan laughs, “Deal.”

The light turns green and it’s four blocks of squealing tires and yelling.

They cruise to the old safehouse after Ryan wins. In the driveway he gets out and walks over to Mogar’s challenger, leaning into the window.

“So about that dinner.”

“I know of this diner nearby, get in.”

“What, you don’t want a ride in the Zentorno?”

Mogar rolls his eyes, “Get in.”

Ryan shakes his head, letting his hand drag over the car as he walks around to get in. Mogar swings out of the driveway and then they’re flying through the city. Ryan pulls his mask off and takes down his ponytail, shaking his hair free. The wind is whipping his hair wild and Mogar is laughing as Ryan rakes part of it out of his mouth.

“Gonna get called away this time?” He asks, grinning widely as the car goes over a hill and comes off the ground.

Mogar looks over, eyes raking over Ryan, “Not if I can help it.”

They end up in an empty diner where the waitress puts them in the curved booth and only asks for their drinks, giving a nod to Mogar before disappearing into the kitchen.

Ryan leans his elbows on the table, “Come here often?”

Mogar smiles, tugs him into a kiss by his shirt collar, “Only when hungover.”

“Oh, a common haunt of yours then.”

Mogar kisses him again to shut him up. Their drinks come and the waitress says it’ll be another minute on their food. Mogar pulls out his phone to show him pictures and videos of his crew members (read: dumbass family).

There’s a video of Golden Boy scrambling over the back of the couch to get away from a piece of wet bread, of Rimmy Tim doing a backflip off the back off their cargobob into the fucking ocean. There’s a picture of Beardo and Nova coloring in Kingpin’s tattoos with sharpies, of Axel and Golden Boy crouched over their computers in the dark ‘like the gremlins they are’.

Their food comes and it’s greasy burgers and hot fries. As they eat Ryan tells him about some of his more theatrical jobs. The time he distracted a target by reciting the “To Be or Not To Be” soliloquy while Doll Face stole their car from twenty feet behind them. The time he waited in a guy's closet for five hours, through a very failed and awkward hook-up, just so he could say “some skeletons should stay in the closet” before he killed the man (That one made Mogar laugh so hard he choked on his burger).

***

Ryan wakes up to a warm body next to him and a phone ringing on the nightstand. He groans, pawing for the phone and having to blink a couple times to clear his vision. Mogar’s already grumbling awake when Ryan realises the phone gold and hands it over.

“Yeah?” Mogar grunts, voice gravelly from sleep.

The person on the other end isn’t the same as last time, but whatever they say still makes Mogar grimace. There’s a pause and they say something else.

“I’m on my way.” He hangs up and groans, burying his face in Ryan’s neck.

Ryan laughs, pats his back. Mogar gets out of bed and pulls on his clothes, leans over to kiss Ryan one more time, then starts out of the room.

“Hey.” Ryan calls after him, waits for him to turn around, “See you at the next redlight.”

Mogar smirks.

***

They’re splayed across the safehouse couch, shitty movie on as they cuddle. At some point this had stopped being a hookup and Ryan isn’t sure when that happened but he’s glad it did. Glad because he can drape himself across Mogar and the man just cards his fingers through Ryan’s hair.

Mogar takes a sip of his beer, presses a kiss to Ryan’s hair, “So.”

Ryan scratches Mogar’s back lightly where his arms are wrapped around him, “So.”

“I… like this?”

Ryan moves so he can meet Mogar’s eyes, “This?”

Mogar shrugs, watching the movie intently, “Us.”

Ryan smiles, “I do too.”

“Is this a thing now?”

“If you want it to be.”

Mogar nodded, “Yeah. I’d like that.”

There’s a moment where they try to focus back into the movie.

“Michael.”

Ryan hums.

“My name’s Michael.”

“Oh. Ryan.”

Michael nodded, adjusting his arms around Ryan and settling in to nap through the rest of the movie. Ryan adjust his own arms to thread one hand through Michael’s hair. He’s warm and comfortable. He’d just watched Michael text Kingpin about taking the day off before he’d powered his phone off.

***

The next day off they have Ryan walks into the safehouse with the intention of taking Michael out for a movie date, you know, like normal couples supposedly do.

Instead the door swings open before he can reach it and a duster is shoved at his chest, “Where the fuck do you buy a lawnmower in Los Santos?”

“What?” He asks, because Michael’s all flustered and there’s a cobweb in his curls.

(He apparently needs a haircut because his hair’s gotten long enough that he’s pulled it into a ponytail and holy shit Ryan is in  _ Love _ .)

Michael doesn’t give him enough time to answer before he whirls back into the house and Ryan hears the vacuum start again. He looks down at the duster he’s now holding, and that he’s pretty sure he never even bought for this safehouse. (He’s only partially certain that the vacuum isn’t the one that was here when he bought the house.)

Ryan steps into the house and catches his boyfriend’s attention, “What?”

Michael stops vacuuming to look at him, “The yard’s overgrown and there’s no lawnmower here. Where do you even buy one in this fucking city?”

“... That’s a good question.” Ryan moves to start dusting the empty shelves in the living room, “Guess we’ll just have to find out.”

Michael finishes vacuuming and moves on to mopping the kitchen. Ryan can hear him muttering to himself and finds himself smiling. Who would’ve thought that a race and a hook-up would lead to this. Certainly not fucking Ryan, but he wouldn’t trade this for anything.

By the time Michael’s satisfied with the cleanliness of the safehouse (are they moving in here together? Is that the plan? Ryan’s a little afraid to ask because Michael’s been on a bit of a frenzy today), it’s nearing midnight. Ryan pulls him into their bed (with fresh sheets) and wraps an arm around him in hopes of keeping him down.

He nuzzles into curls that are still damp from the shower Michael pulled him into, lets out a sigh as he relaxes. “I hope you put this much effort into this place because you plan on staying.”

Michael tenses, “It doesn’t have to mean anything. It can just mean that I was tired of spending the night with you in a pig stye and we never go to each other’s places because I don’t think Kingpin would exactly be happy with me if I walked into the penthouse with you in tow all ‘Hey, just brought my boyfriend, the fucking  _ Vagabond _ , to spend the night, sweet dreams.”

Ryan squeezes him hard enough to shut him up, “Hey, what if I want it to mean something? This neighborhood is peaceful, yeah? A nice escape.”

“Oh.” Michael says, and snuggles closer to him to finally go to sleep.

It feels almost… oh, god, it feels almost  _ domestic _ .

***

Golden Boy catches him lurking at a dingy little bar. Slides into the booth across from Ryan and flashes him a blinding smile. Ryan sips his Diet Coke and snaps Michael a picture of Golden Boy with a frowny face emoji.

Golden Boy digs a card out of the pocket of skin tight jeans and slides it over the table. Michael sends him a snap of one hand holding his xbox controller and Skyrim on the TV. He’s on house arrest from an injury sustained during a heist, an injury that spooked the rest of the Fakes enough to send him to his apartment where they know he’ll be safe (he hasn’t told them he’s moved yet, with Ryan being involved and all). It’s killing Michael to be stuck in the house all day, but Ryan can’t wait to go home and curl up next to him with the book he’d just started.

“You’ve caught Kingpin’s eye, he could use you for a heist.” Golden Boy says and Ryan glances down at the card.

It has the Fake’s logo and a number under it. The card is black and the logo is that aggressive green color.

“Call if you’re interested.” Another card -gold- is slid next to that one, “And call anytime.”

Golden Boy winks before standing and sashaying into the crowd.

He steps out of the bar and digs out his lighter. Sends Michael a snap of Golden Boy’s card burning with a winky face emoji. He gets a snap of Michael cuddled in their bed pouting. Ryan laughs and makes his way home.

***

Kingpin walks him into the conference room and everyone tries to hide their reaction to him, which Ryan finds funny and know’s Michael does too. Can tell by the way he’s grinning at Ryan from behind everyone else, waits until he catches Ryan watching him to roll his eyes dramatically.

Michael clears his throat, “That mask is ridiculous.”

Ryan barely stops himself from laughing as everyone whips around to give Michael a look that asks if he has a deathwish. He’s never been more thankful for his mask.

“Mogar.” Ryan growls, dramatic even though he knows he’ll get shit for it when they get home, “Always a pleasure.”

***

They pull into the garage and everyone piles out of the vehicles. Rimmy Tim is bullying Golden Boy, Nova and Axel are chattering excitedly, and Beardo is pulling Kingpin towards the elevator. Ryan catches Michael’s eye and they hang back while everyone disperses.

Michael smiles at him, tugging him behind a support pillar. Ryan takes off his mask and leans in for a kiss. It’s quick and he follows it with a couple more, ends with Michael laughing and shoving him away. He smears Ryan’s face paint into a gray mess, pulling up Ryan’s shirt to wipe his hands off on Ryan’s stomach.

“Was that necessary?” Ryan asks.

Michael kisses him, “Yes.”

“Are you doing swimmy bevs with Goldie?”

Michael wraps his arms around Ryan’s waist and just holds him. “What’s for dinner?”

Ryan hums, “I was thinking Chinese? From that little place you like.”

Michael shrugs, kisses him, “Yeah, gonna do swimmy bevs and I’ll grab food on my way back to the house?”

“That sounds like a plan.”

There’s shouting from the other end of the garage and Michael pushes them apart with a smile. Ryan fixes his clothes and Michael checks himself for paint.

“Time to be dark and mysterious.” Michael tells him.

Ryan knocks his shoulder, “Do you think I should vaguely threaten to gut someone today?”

“Nah, do the batman disappearing thing.”

Golden Boy is holding the elevator door open for them. He quips about it being a surprise that Michael was still alive. Michael smiles at him when no one else is looking and Ryan feels so dumb when he smiles back because he knows it’s stupidly soft and Michael can’t even see it.

***

Ryan comes home with a skinny rottweiler one day, the poor thing all sad and just looks so tired. Came from a fighting ring Ryan and Dollface had broken up that day, maybe a little more viciously than necessary (not vicious enough in Ryan’s opinion).

Michael comes out of the kitchen to greet him and just stops to stare at the dog Ryan is cradling in his arms like a child. Stares as Ryan shoots him this pleading look.

“I’ll feed him? And walk him?” Ryan tries, shifting because the dog is big and still heavy even half starved. Feels hope leaving him as Michael continues to stare, “Just until he’s healthy, then I’ll find a di-”

“What the fuck are we gonna name him?” Michael interrupts, finally moves forward to get a closer look.

He runs his hands along the dogs flank and grimaces at the way you can count the dogs ribs.

“We can keep him?”

“Jesus, yeah. I’m feeding him steaks for the next forever, fucking christ.”

The rottweiler warms up to Michael quickly, and soon is bouncing around Michael’s feet as he tries to finish dinner. Michael curses up a storm when he almost trips over the dog, but he pats the dogs head and gives him the chunks of fat he cut off their steaks.

When dinner’s done Michael puts a plate of steak on the floor and whistles, “C’mon Banjo, eat up.”

“Banjo?” Ryan asks, still hasn’t stopped smiling from when Michael had first said yes.

“Banjo Kazooie, y’know.”

Ryan laughs.

***

Ryan’s dragged the lads out to blow things up, since it’s been a while and he feels the itch under his skin and knows that Michael has to be feeling the same way. Jeremy is riding with him in a shiny sports car they stole and Gavin’s with Michael in the adder.

They pull up at a redlight and Michael honks his horn -the modified tune so dumb and extravagant but fitting him so well- as he rolls down his window. Ryan rolls down Jeremy’s window and leans forward to raise an eyebrow at Michael.

“Next four, same stakes?” Michael shouts, this shit-eating grin because he knows he’s going to win this time.

“That’s not fair and you know it.”

Michael laughs, revved his engine.

Ryan sighs, smiling under his mask, “Deal.”

The light turns green and Michael’s tires squeal as he lets them pull ahead for just a second, then he’s zipping past them. Ryan can hear Gavin squawking from here, Jeremy’s laughing as the sports car strains to catch up.

“What’s the normal stakes?” Jeremy asks as they pull into the abandoned Gas Station Michael’s parked at.

“Winner gets first punch in our next brawl.” Ryan doesn’t clarify that he means when they go bar hopping looking to start bar fights (never been much for the normal things couples do).

“Shit.”

Michael waves at them when they get out, holding up a jug of gas in his other hand. Gavin’s having a smoke on the hood of the car not four feet away. Ryan shakes his head at the lunatics he chose to run with.

***

Ryan’s taken off his mask around the others (still wears the face paint though, because  _ aesthetic _ ) and they’re still dancing around behind the crew’s backs. Less to hide from them and more because Michael was amused that the idiots hadn’t figured it out yet, wanted to see how long it would take.

Ryan went along with it because that crew is full of idiots, and he finds it funny too. The fact that they still believe him when he makes vague threats as if Michael would let him get away with them. Well, maybe the minor ones against Gavin when the fucker gets on one of his pranking sprees.

They get to go home and laugh about Jeremy and Gavin dancing around one another. They get to go home and laugh about everyone fearing for Michael’s life when he gets in arguments with Ryan, mainly about idiot plans and ‘ _ Fuck, Ryan, how could you think this would work _ ?!’ followed up with Ryan being appropriately offended because his  _ honor _ , Michael. They get to go home and put a shitty movie on and cuddle on the couch with Banjo laying over their legs. This thing they’ve got going on is real fucking good, in Ryan’s opinion, murder and explosions and all.

***

Michael flops into the seat beside Ryan in the conference room, shoves his phone in Ryan’s face, “Lindsay tried to give me a cat today.”

Ryan looks at the tiny calico kitten in the picture and his heart melts, “She’s adorable… wait, what do you mean tried?”

Michael shrugs, props his feet up on the table as the others file in, “I told her no.”

“ _ What _ ?” Ryan says, barely keeping himself from yelling… failing at not yelling.

Michael raises an eyebrow at him, “The kitten’s fucking tiny.”

“Yeah!” Ryan waves his hands around, “She’s fucking precious! And you know I’ve wanted a kitten!”

“We’re not getting a kitten, Rye-bread.”

“Why not?!” Ryan stands, points an accusing finger at his boyfriend, “You hate me! You don’t want me to be happy.”

Michael rolls his eyes at Ryan’s theatrics, “Banjo would squash her. He’s like a hundred and twenty pounds.”

Ryan gasps, “He would never!”

“Babe, he’s a giant oaf.” Michael’s making a valid point that Ryan’s choosing to ignore, “He’d trip and fall on her.”

Ryan sits back down to pout, “You hate me.”

“Goddamn, alright. I’ll call Lindsay after the planning and tell her that I changed my mind.”

The rest of the crew are standing crowded just inside the doorway, staring at them in what Ryan assumes is shock.

Michael spots Lindsay, “Oh, nevermind. Hey, Linds, I’ll take that kitten after all.”

Lindsay gives him a thumbs up as the shouting starts. Gavin’s yelling at Michael, and Jeremy’s yelling at Ryan. Geoff’s yelling something about them having better not of fucked in his penthouse, and Jack is laughing her ass off. Behind them money is being traded by B-Team. Ryan watched Lindsay reach her hand back for Fiona to slap a wad of hundreds in her hand.

***

S’mores and Banjo get on like a house on fire. Wherever the little kitten wanders off to Banjo is bounding after her. They run around the backyard until they’re tired then nap in the sun until Michael calls them in for dinner. S’mores’ favorite place to sleep is curled up on Banjo’s back.

Ryan’s sent Lindsay hundreds of photos of the little kitten sleeping on the rottweiler. So many that one day she sent back a collage that documented S’mores growing up by how big she was curled up on Banjo’s back. Michael has it framed and hanging in their bedroom. Jeremy and Gavin like to tease them about how domestic they are whenever they come over. Geoff loves to steal their backyard for barbeques ( _ You fuckers have a backyard you don’t use and all I have is a roof, you can’t play barbeque games on a roof _ ) and still denies giving Banjo and S’mores strips of meat as he cooks. Jack makes constant comments about how they act like an old married couple, with their constant squabbling over television and who gets to take what car and who’s idea was more likely to get everyone killed.

They still blow shit up and cause chaos. They still pull ridiculously extravagant heist, whose paper articles they’ve started hanging on their walls. Gavin and Jeremy still talk Michael into things that cause him to catch on fire (funny story, that one). Ryan still pulls up next to a chrome adder at redlights and offers to race.

And Ryan may not remember how this all started, but holy shit is he happy with how it's turned out so far.


End file.
